


Judgement

by TheReviewess



Series: Heroics Run In The Family [21]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Judgment, Mom Leliana, Morrigan is the Cool Aunt, Ultimate Sacrifice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-03-08
Packaged: 2019-11-14 02:47:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18043991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheReviewess/pseuds/TheReviewess
Summary: In an Alternate Universe where Warden Aerinwyn Mahariel went for the ultimate sacrifice, her daughter Faenra Mahariel Lavellan finds herself between a rock and a hard place when it comes to the judgement of Blackwall, no Rainier.





	Judgement

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote his one day because I was curious how Fae would react to Blackwall's judgement if her mom did the ultimate sacrifice.

Faenra sat in her incredibly ridiculous enchanter's throne thing. It was… well it was exactly what she suspected from a fancy throne made for a mage if she was being quite honest. And she hated it. But of all the fancy seats people had brought for the Inquisition, Shema said that this one was a good one. Shema was good at those sort of things, which is why Faenra left that stuff up to her.

Today was judgement day. A day she was not overly fond of in general, but even less fond of given the circumstances. 

Blackwall, no, Thom Rainier was to be judged today. By her. 

Everyone was present for this. All their friends, and many of the higher ranking soldiers were in attendance. After Halamshiral, many nobles now frequented their base of operations, and they too had taken a spot in the crowd. Faenra could even see her chambermaid hiding with a few other servants. No one wanted to miss this judgement.

By her side was Josephine, sweet Josephine that had pulled her aside before all this began to tell the Inquisitor that she had comfort cheese awaiting the young elf for when all this was over. With that thought in her head, Faenra felt confident that she could make it through. 

And, if Fae didn't think she could manage, Shema was on the other side, twirling a knife between her fingers. The sight was comforting, but probably only to Faenra. She was fairly certain everyone else was a little terrified that the spymaster has left her tower. As they should be. Probably. 

Another person of interest was the Witch, Morrigan, who stood at her Shema's side. Despite her Shema's stories, this Morrigan woman had been oddly kind toward the young elf. What was even stranger was that Faenra remembered those same yellow eyes holding nothing but tenderness only ten years ago. It was a blur, but Faenra recalled her fingers gently brushing away her sweat soaked hair from her forehead and a cool cloth being pressed to her forehead while magic ran through her. Shema told many stories or Morrigan, but none matched up to Faenra's experiences. Even the ones from her brief lucid moments almost a decade before.

As Faenra remembered the events from the Blight, she instinctively shifted to tug on her collar. It was a nervous tick, wanting to cover old scars that were already covered. Bite marks from when the werewolves threw her around like a ragdoll when she was ten. Only Shema and Morrigan knew of them, as they had helped treat those wounds… and now, Thom Rainier. 

She had told him about them during their night together. A night that was too good to be true. Faenra should have suspected something. She knew she should, yet the man had gotten past all her defenses. Blackwall had been all of her weaknesses rolled up into one person. And now look at where it got her.

“For judgement this day, Inquisitor, I must present Captain Thom Rainier, formerly known to us as Warden Blackwall.” Josephine told her with what sounded like a heavy heart. Her voice sounded weary, like she was all hoping this was a horrible dream.

Fae wished it was a dream too. At least this dream would be more pleasant than the ones she usually had.

As the Inquisition soldiers brought Thom Rainier forward, there was rapid movement at Faenra's feet. A massive brown mabari stood in front of the Inquisitor, barking and ready to pounce on the man in chains.

A few simple clicks with her mouth called the dog off, but not before giving the downtrodden man a warning growl. The mabari refused to turn his back to the man, but did back up to allow Faenra to put her hand on his head for comfort pets.

“His crimes… well, you are aware of his crimes. It was no small expense to bring him here. But, the decision of what to do with him is yours.” With that, Josephine walked over towards her office, leaving Faenra to judge.

All eyes were on her.

“I didn't expect this to be easy, but it's harder than I thought.” Faenra finally said, refusing to let her voice crack. She would not let anyone see weakness from her. Fae had to be strong, just like Shema taught her. Like her Mamae taught her.

“Another thing to regret. I know you put another man in my place. Haven't enough died for me?” Rainier asked the young elf. He moved forward ever so slightly, drawing the attention of the fearsome mabari at the Inquisitor's side.

The idea had been Shema's. And, unsurprisingly Faenra went with it. She almost always took her Shema's ideas.

“I wish there had been another way, but my options were limited,” Faenra told him. She gently ran her fingers over the hound's head, letting the familiarity of it all bring some comfort to her. 

“You could have left me there!” The liar said raising his voice a little. “I accepted my punishment! I was ready for all this to end! Why would you stop it? What becomes of me now?”

Why did she stop it? It was obvious, wasn't it? She loved him. Well. She loved the lie that was Blackwall. Thom Rainier on the other hand…

He had betrayed her. He lied to her. He disgraced not only her, but his lie disgraced her mother. The woman who died for her. For all of them.

“In another world,” Faenra started off quietly, “I would have given you to the Wardens. But, the Wardens deserve the best. They deserve people of honor. Good people! People willing to die for anyone despite the shape of their ears or how tall they are!”

Blackwall hung his head as Faenra spoke, her voice growing louder with every word. 

A small cough from Faenra's left startled her. Her eyes darted to the left for just a moment, looking at her Shema, and then looking back to Rainier. The spymaster had jarred her from her thoughts because she was getting too emotional. While the woman had not stopped spinning the knife between her fingers, she didn't really need to do much to tell Fae to keep it together. Fae needed to keep her cool.

Sighing, Faenra leaned her head back against the chair. After a moment to clear her mind, she looked back at the pitiful man before her.

“My mother was a Warden during the Blight.” Faenra finally stated. “She was an honorable elf. Who fought to save the life of every person in this room. Every person in this Inquisition! So while the  _ real _ Warden Blackwall may have chosen you to serve in the Wardens, you must know why I could never allow that. How I could never allow myself to give you over to the same good and honorable Order that my mother once proudly served with. It would be a disgrace to her memory.”

By the end of that, Faenra was snarling at the shell of a man before her. Even a low growl from the mabari could be heard.

“You remember my stories about my mother, right Thom Rainier?” Faenra asked, spitting his name out.

“I do,” Rainier admitted quietly. “She died at Ostagar.”

“I never said she died at Ostagar.” Fae retorted hotly. “I said she died in the Blight. Well, I suppose she died right when the Blight finished.”

The second Fae said that, something clattered to the floor. Many eyes darted to the spymaster, who had dropped her knife. She made no move to pick it up, only giving the Inquisitor a look that no one could place. Morrigan has a more interested look, and it was decidedly less murderous looking than Sister Leliana's. She was interested.

“Don't you dare, young lady,” Faenra heard barely above a whisper off to her left. It was low and only an elf (and Morrigan) could hear, but Fae was too angry to care. She was pissed. She was betrayed. And she was going to let Blackwall know just  _ how  _ much he fucked up. No! Rainier! Fuck this shit.

“Excuse me?” Rainier asked her.

“My mother died in the Blight. Well. At the end of the Blight. After single handedly fighting the darkspawn while her team could run ahead. She saved the Denerim Alienage practically by herself, it's a great story. Hahren Tabris does a great job telling that.”

“Faenra.” Fae heard Leliana hiss. She ignored her. Opting to stand up to make herself look bigger, but also because she was pissed as fuck and sitting did not feel right in her rage.

“And after that, after saving all those elves, she raced through Fort Drakon, cutting down all the remaining Darkspawn in her path. No one knows how many she slayed by herself that day, hundreds probably, but that's not the best part.”

“Faenra!” Leliana said, just a little louder than before. Not loud enough to attract a lot of attention, but some of the elves closer to the spymaster could hear her. 

“You see, out of all the darkspawn she fought during the Battle of Denerim. Nothing compared to the Archdemon.”

Whispers rang out through the hall. A few people there had been in Denerim during the Blight, and remembered that battle, Sera being one. If anyone had been paying attention to her, they would have seen her face go pale at the implications of Faenra's statement.

“Your mother helped fight the Archdemon?” Rainier asked Fae, “but the only Wardens that made it to fight the Archdemon were King Alistair and the Hero of Ferelden.”

Faenra crossed her arms. The mabari quickly situated himself between Faenra and the prisoner, growling louder at him.

“Did I fucking stutter?”

Then, silence. Everyone just looked at the Inquisitor.

In her head, all Morrigan could hear was a familiar accented voice. 

“ _ Hey ugly! Over here! Go fuck yourself! _ ”

“I am Faenra Mahariel, formerly of Clan Sabrae and now of Clan Lavellan. My mother was Aerinwyn Mahariel. Or, as most everyone calls her, the Hero of Ferelden. And you, Thom Rainier, are a disgrace to her memory and the memory of  _ all  _ the Grey Wardens.” Faenra snarled at him. “I will give you your freedom to atone however you see fit. Do with it as you please. We are finished here.”

With that, the Inquisitor began to walk away, towards her quarters. After a few steps, she realized she was alone.

“Fen,” she said to the mabari. “Leave him, Fen'Falon.”

The grizzled mabari was not happy about it, but she eventually did leave to join her. 

No one even moved until Faenra slammed to door leading to her Quarters. Once that broke the spell over everyone, all eyes turned to Leliana, the only person who could confirm such rumors.

Sighing, she bent down to pick up her knife. Once retrieved, she sheathed it and looked out over the dumbstruck crowd.

“It's true.” The Spymaster admitted sadly.

“She looks exactly like the Warden, 'tis shocking no one came to this conclusion sooner,” Morrigan commented. Her eyes glanced over to the door, noting a sizeable crack in it. “And she seems to possess the Legendary Mahariel Temper as well.”

Leliana elbowed Morrigan.

“I speak the truth!”

“Now is not the time.” 

A younger Morrigan would have made a rude comment to Leliana, instead she opted for rolling her eyes and following the Inquisitor. Better her than anyone else. If she slung and spells, Morrigan would be best suited to deal with them. 

And, for some reason, Morrigan had a very small almost non-existent soft spot for the mage. Though she would never admit it. Ever. 

Hours later when Leliana finally made her way up the steps and to the Inquisitor's room and saw a sleeping Faenra with her puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, and drooling slightly while behind held by a familiar Witch. All while Fen'Falon was curled up at the edge of the bed. 

Normally the bard would have made a smart remark on the sight (likely a joke about Morrigan fighting for the title of Favorite Aunt), but this day extracted a heavy toll on her as well, so she opted for something else. 

“Move.” The Spymaster said as she made her way to the bed.

“Excuse me?”

“Move over,” Leliana clarified, “you're hogging the bed.” 

Leliana had changed from her day to day garb, opting for simple breeches and an old shirt. A shirt that belonged to the Warden Mahariel before her untimely death. 

Morrigan moved as much as she could, giving Leliana room to climb on to the bed. They both did their best to not disturb the old Mabari while he slept, too.

“Chilly out.” Morrigan commented quietly.

“Very,” Leliana agreed, already moving so that she was pressed up against the witch. “Are you warm enough? I can fetch another blanket.”

“‘Tis nothing. We have been through worse.”

“We have.”

They had indeed. For just a moment, with the tiny elf laying half on top of Morrigan, the two women felt a strange sense of normalcy. It brought them back to a time where they all huddled together for warmth. A time when life seemed simpler, even during the Blight.

“You have done well with her,” Morrigan admitted after a moment, looking over to Leliana.

“It was… difficult, but we managed. I just hope it was good enough.” Leliana admitted. She loved the Inquisitor like her own daughter. Raised her as best as she could. During her time with Faenra, Leliana wondered if this was how Lady Cecilie felt when raising her. She also silently hoped that her love was watching over them, and helping however she could.

Though, knowing their Warden, she was likely playing hilarious pranks on them and laughing about it in the afterlife.

“Tomorrow will be a long day. 'Twould be wise of us to rest now,” Morrigan mumbled out, eyes already drifting shut.

Leliana, who already closed her eyes, grunted in agreement, gently throwing her arm over Morrigan so that her hand could rest on Faenra's back. The two were silent for a moment until Leliana snorted.

“Morrigan in the middle,” she mumbled, eyes still closed but with a smile on her face.

“I hate you.”

“It's a Morrigan sandwich,” Leliana sang out in her sleepy voice. 

“Go to sleep, Leliana.”

“Ooh, she used my name. I'm in trouble.”

“If there was not a sleeping elf on top of me, I would be leaving right now.”

It was a common tactic used in the Blight. Aerinwyn and Leliana would trap Morrigan in the middle of the two of them, when the night was cold, and then they would annoy the shit out of her. It was one of their favorite pastimes. With few things to make them laugh during a Blight, they often found their own fun.

“You should use my name more often. It's nice to hear it from you.”

Morrigan groaned but said nothing. At least, nothing immediately. She was silent. Silent to the point where Leliana had begun drifting off to sleep. 

“Good night, Leliana,” The witch mumbled after some time had passed. 

That made Leliana smile. Today might have been one of the hardest days she had to face in a very long time, but it didn't end as terribly as it could have. She'd take that.

Tomorrow she could give Morrigan shit. Maybe it would make Fae laugh.


End file.
